One Friday Night at Alfredo's
by Guardian Izz
Summary: Blair stumbled out of the suite 1812. Followed by Chuck. When she turned around Bart Bass' hard and severe face blocked her way out. Bart always gave his son whatever he desired, but will they manage to ensnare Blair Waldorf? Btw 1x09 & 1x12
1. Chapter 1

**ONE FRIDAY NIGHT AT ALFREDO'S**

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**_AN: A three-shot._**

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The door opened and Blair stumbled backing out of the suite. Followed by Chuck. They were both laughing. Well, she was laughing at his pick up lines that he practised on her; he was rather smirking than laughing.

As she turned around a hard and severe face blocked her way. In that moment Blair thanked whatever God existed that she always was particular with her appearance, since she was anything but proper and decent judging by the recent activities she oh so willingly participated in, inside suite 1812.

"Mr Bass" she put on a fake society smile and straightened.

"Blair, it's nice to see you again. It has been a while." Bart greeted the young debutante.

"Father." Chuck pronounced seriously.

"I see you two decided to catch up, am I right? I assume Nathaniel is around here somewhere as well?" Bart stepped inside the suite, passing by Blair and Chuck. He expected to see the worst: the bed unmade, hash on the glass table by the sofa, empty glasses and bottles lined up on the bar sink. However, to his great surprise the room was absolutely clean, the bed was made and on the small glass table there was only a breakfast tray from room service. Furthermore, the infamous suite that Bart preferred to avoid at all costs smelled of fresh flowers, instead of its usual smell of smoke and scotch. And upon a closer examination he noticed two vases of fresh lilac hydrangeas; beside the breakfast tray on the table, and the other one on a shelf next to the bed, which if Bart wasn't mistaken had new sheets. It was still Egyptian silk, but unlike anything that the Palace had offered. These sheets were black not the standard protocol grey. Yes, the room was indeed presentable and respectable enough for receiving guests in it, but there was still no Nathaniel present.

"Actually, Nate is out of town, Mr Bass. We were just on our way to the… library to finish one of our school assignments." Blair knew how this sounded, but they were actually on their way to the library. Chuck needed some help with secondary literature sources for his economics project (the only subject he actually tolerated) and Blair convinced him to follow her to the city library. She saw how uneasy he felt around Bart, but somehow knew that he wanted her to stay and preferred not to be alone with his father.

"School? Well, that is some good influence on you, Charles."

"Actually," Blair interrupted, "we were supposed to go over the details for _Chuck's_ presentation for economics class. I am just there to give some feedback." Chuck looked serious but thankful for Blair's ability of sweet-talking practically anyone.

"Really, that is interesting – economics." Bart looked over to his son. "May ask what the topic is?"

"Hm. How to decrease the unemployment level. I figured that though during the inflation the prices rise…"

"Yes?" Bart raised one eyebrow.

"… Well, the demand for labour increases." Bart looked closely at his son. The young man was dressed in surprisingly neutral colours. He had a brown jacket and a brown turtle neck sweater underneath, and black pants. During their Thanksgiving dinner at one of Bart's hotels he introduced Chuck to a few business associates, and apparently his scoundrel of a son made quite an impression. Weather it was a good or a bad one yet remained to be seen. A couple of these colleagues suggested that Bart should bring young Charles to dinner more often.

"Well, I came here to let you know that I am hosting a soirée tonight, and that you might participate. There will be a few colleagues you already met during Thanksgiving." It did not escape him that Chuck seemed to be _surprisingly_ interested, but that was not the only thing he noticed. Because, really, the way that Charles kept glancing over at his best friend's girlfriend was just impossible to miss. Well, at least to his father, who knew his son. Bartholomew Bass knew that Blair Waldorf was probably the only female friend Chuck had. However he did not expect them being so close. Apparently Miss Waldorf did not mind his son's _slightly_ unconventional ways and company. She was also probably one of the few reasons why Chuck was accepted in the polite society. The Waldorfs held a certain power and nobody said a word about the people from the circle of their acquaintances. All in all, Harold Waldorf's daughter was a good influence and an important connection to maintain.

"Perhaps, I should let you two discuss your dinner plans in private. I will be waiting downstairs in the lobby. It was nice meeting you again, Mr Bass."

"Actually…" Bart suddenly proclaimed, deep in thought. There was something different about the atmosphere in this suite. It felt as if it had a woman's touch, and that's when he saw it. While Blair's attention at the present was on Bart himself and she looked calm, his son's facial features showed quite a different expression. It could be described as admiration. Bart noticed how even with him in the room, Chuck was focusing on Blair. And his eyes sparkled… he knew what was happening before Chuck realised it himself.

"_Actually_, I was going to ask Charles to bring an escort, and since you wanted to catch up perhaps you could join us, Blair." It wasn't even a question; Chuck stared at his father, completely caught off guard by this turn of events, yet not entirely displeased.

"Oh, I think that…" she tried to think of an excuse. Considering the recent turn of events, spending a Friday night with her _secret lover _(she would never get used to that word) and his father, in _their _world was just plain old weird! Not to mention that she highly doubted that Chuck would be thrilled by her sudden involvement in his private family matters.

Little did she know that despite the shocked expression on his face, he was almost smiling on the inside.

"I'm sure that it would be fine, since Nathaniel is out of town as you said." Bart Bass did not take no for an answer.

"Well…" but Blair didn't even have the chance to respond.

"Splendid." Bart stepped out of the room into the hall. "I will expect you both at a quarter to seven, fifteen minutes before dinner, at the reception." And then he was gone.

_Tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock…_

The clock on the wall kept on ticking, but neither of them said anything.

_Tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock…_

"Well, that went… definitely not as planned."

"Blair." Chuck stepped closer to her.

"Yes?" Her breath was caught in her throat at his sudden proximity.

"Do you think you could do me this one favour?" He looked so serious.

"Of course. I know it's important, I just don't know if either of us is going to be very comfortable, that's all." She blinked.

"I wouldn't ask if it wasn't for him." At this Blair looked down at the floor. These words disappointed her, but she was not surprised. Of course the Bass-tard would go for some easy, blonde one-night stand if it wasn't for Bart, and Blair's influence on him. But she reminded herself of the fact that this was just an affair. Nothing less, nothing more. She had to keep him at a distance, keep him away from her heart. He _liked_ her, so what? She _liked_ blueberry ice cream. He's probably in some phase and she just came in handy. Like, had an entirely different meaning in Chuck Bass' thesaurus.

***

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

**Part II**

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The streets of New York City were full with people and holiday spirit. It hasn't snowed yet, but the metropolitan was already decorated with Christmas lights, festoons and colourful garlands. The Window displays had Winter Wonderland theme settings and most of the stores didn't hesitate to adorn their interiors.

The Palace was already full-booked for the holiday season and it was the busiest time for the staff of the hotel.

The trees in the corner of the antique courtyard in front of the original building of the Palace Hotel were covered with hoarfrost that reflected the soft golden gleam, shimmering from the poinsettia look-alike wreaths, hanging on the branches.

In the west wing of the Palace, where _**Alfredo's**_ restaurant was situated, Bart Bass was already awaiting the arrival of his guests. He looked at his Omega wristwatch, half expectantly calculating his son's "fashionably late" arrival. He nearly choked on his brandy when Charles walked through the swinging glass doors at exactly 6:45pm, not a minute too late. While drying away the spilled brown liquid from his right sleeve with a napkin, Bart saw how his son paused and held the door open for a young woman with a stunning feminine body.

Well, it was reassuring that he at least inherited Bart's taste in the female form.

Surprised, he realised that the stunning brunette on Chuck's arm was Blair Waldorf. He thought that it was another one of Maxim models that his son hired for the evening, directly disobeying his father's orders, which wouldn't be the first time. However, here she was – Blair Waldorf in all her glory, dressed in a simple black dress. In a reflection he saw that the tight, form-fitting, black cocktail dress had a deep cut, leaving the bare back open for the admiration of hungry eyes. Narrowing his eyes he saw Chuck's hand positioned lower than what was appropriate, stroking the bare skin with his fingers.

Her head held high; everything about her attire was flawless. So unlike standard beauties - her beauty was deep and she had dark alluring eyes, which reminded Bart of _her… _She was so much alike her and yet different. Stronger somehow. Perhaps it was the upbringing, making Blair look stronger than Chuck's mother.

Upon a detailed examination of the newly arrived duo, he had to admit that with the gorgeous Upper East Side heiress on his arm, his son looked handsome. Dressed in a stylish black Armani suit, he looked all grown up, rather 20 than 17. Chuck Bass looked like the _Charles _Bass he was supposed to be. It almost seemed as if the presence of a certain girl had caused the true Bass legacy to resurface. For once the purple colour on Chuck's _tie_ did not bother Bartholomew Bass… well, not too much… it was still _purple_.

*

Blair spotted Bart and the two made their way over to the reception area. However, Chuck did no pay any attention as to where they were headed. How could he? With her looking like that, so close to him. Her bare skin was so tempting, and he could imagine how he was practically drooling at the sight of her in _that _dress, when she stepped out of the car.

And yet something wasn't right.

Ever since the encounter with his father a few days ago she has been distant. As in more distant than when they were friends. She avoided him at school and when he did find her she acted so cold. He tried calling her but eventually (after 10 missed calls in two days) got the message that she was not in the mood.

However, that was not too upsetting… okay, so maybe it was – he was addicted to her body and he was Chuck Bass after all; he really did miss her company. Whatever _this thing_ between them was, he wanted to be a part of her life - every aspect of it. Although, if he really thought about it, he already was. Before, the only thing separating them (except for the whole _old money _slash _new money_ nonsense, _OH_ and Nathaniel…) was the great gap between her innocence and his experience. But now, that her virginity belonged to him Chuck had a nagging feeling that he would never be able to let her go. Her virginity was the most precious gift he has ever gotten. Sure it was intended for Nate, but he did not deserve it. You could argue that neither did Chuck, but he didn't care. If anything, Chuck Bass was a selfish opportunist, so he claimed her body as his own, knowing full well that she would compare all her nights with the nights spent with him – _her first_…

*

His hand was securely locked around her waist and he led her through the lobby.

Charles' father noticed that when the two of them continued down the hall practically every person they passed followed them with curious eyes. Every male present was nearly salivating over the vision in the black silk dress, which caused Charles to tug Blair a little closer to him. He scowled at each and one of those grotesque weasels.

And though Harold's daughter remained more or less oblivious to his son's discomfort, Bart could understand Charles' reaction.

Despite Blair's previously mentioned oblivion of the admiring looks in the room, she did feel how Chuck pulled her closer and closer, and closer still. His arm was practically encircling her waist and she could feel his body nearly pressed against hers.

Obviously this was not good if they were to remain _secret _lovers.

Bart saw how Blair halted and looked up at his son – confused and wondering what he was doing.

During a business meeting with Nathaniel Archibald's uncle, George Van der Bilt, the previous day, Bart has heard that Blair was no longer in a relationship with Charles' best friend. Of course that was not how the Van der Bilt's put it, instead George simply mentioned that she and Nathaniel were taking a break:

"…being so young and all" He said.

Obviously Bart saw through the vague message, as he was very well aware of the way these things went through in the old families of the upper class. They considered themselves as the aristocracy, though most of them got their money as inheritance left to them by their ancestors who had worked their way up just like Bart did. Not to mention that the total revenue of Bass fortune was worth double, if not triple, as much. Hence technically, the Van der Bilts were simply an old family but nonetheless – bourgeoisie.

Of course, the Waldorfs were quite a different matter. Harold's ancestors had aristocratic roots in the German provinces, which is why the Archibalds were so eager to welcome his only daughter and heir into their family. Those children were groomed and unofficially engaged even before they were born. It didn't matter if they broke up now or later on; their families were already planning their wedding for after college.

On top of it all it really didn't matter _who_ would marry Blair; now that the Archibalds were in a financial crisis Nathaniel could easily be replaced with Tripp. All in all – a Van der Bilt, since there were other families eager to make an alliance with the Waldorfs.

Yes, Bart knew how important the young woman on his son's arm was. She was raised to be a trophy wife.

He saw how Blair turned around and looked into Chuck's eyes; the angry scowl, still present on his face, turned into a warm gaze. She smiled at him and they stared at one another. Usually the two of them joked around and the young woman always rolled her eyes at Bart's unconventional son – their normal relationship didn't escape his notice. But, now it seemed more intimate. And perhaps Chuck managed to cover up the _lovesick_ look on his face in time to hide it from miss Waldorf, but as his father, Bart saw right through him.

Despite all the strings attached to the Waldorf heiress and the complications that would follow – for once – Bartholomew Bass approved of his son's choice. With her he looked confident, but not over the top arrogant.

They continued to stare at each other but Blair broke the contact and looked down at the floor.

Her confused facial expression changed into a stoned one when she saw her reflection in the mirror behind Chuck. She disentangled her waist from his hands and turned away, but he caught her arm instead and pulled her in - roughly this time. Her eyes widened when he whispered something in her ear. Blair took one step and dug her heel into his black Manolo shoe. Her ability to control his son and at the same time avoid the scene he was about to cause in the middle of the lobby was impressive.

***

"Mr Bass, good evening." Blair shook Bart's hand.

"Blair, Charles." His eyes on Chuck, Chuck's eyes still on Blair. "So, I assume that I should thank you for being fashionably _early_ instead of _late_?" Bart suggested to Blair but she chose to ignore that comment and merely smiled.

"Thank you for inviting me, sir."

"I think you should wait till after the dinner before you thank me, am I right Charles?" Bart tried (and failed) to smile.

"These things tend to sound much more fun than they are. T'is true, father." Chuck smirked.

"Precisely. Well, nevertheless, shall we?"

***

The evening had a smooth start and Bart came into an agreement about a business deal with one of the investors present. After the main course the two rejoined the dinner party. He noticed his son passionately engaged in a conversation with Turner Catledge, the editor of the New York Times, about the situation on Wall Street. However, the argument began to climax and before Bart knew it he saw his son's evil grin making an appearance and Catledge's eyes widen.

Once again, Blair discretely dug her nails into Chuck's hand under the table (Chuck winced) before leaning over the table and whispering something to Mr. Catledge. The middle-aged man, clearly flattered by the attention of Chuck's gorgeous companion blushed, laughed and then clapped Chuck on the shoulder in a friendly manner.

After Blair's impressive maneuver the journalist and the rest of the table were listening to one of the board director's of Bass Inc., while Chuck and Blair spoke to one another in a hissed tone. He leaned in and she rolled her eyes and laughed. The whole exchange confused Bart even more.

When dessert was served there was a change in the atmosphere. On the other side of the table his son was glaring at the son of Robert Martin, who in turn was staring at Blair. When she laughed at something the young man said Chuck suddenly stood up and threw his napkin on the table.

- "Blair, may I speak with you for a second? If you would excuse us, father." Bart gave them permission to leave the table and saw how the couple left in the direction of the reception area.

Charles was obviously infatuated, but Harold Waldorf's daughter remained rather cold, seemingly oblivious to his attention.

Were they simply friends?

"Excuse me, I will be right back."

*

*

He spotted the pair in a secluded corner at the end of the hallway, leading from the ladies' room. Chuck was leaning over Blair with his arms on either side of her head, capturing her against the wall. His threatening glare was meat but her equally stubborn stare.

- " … then think again. You can whore yourself out somewhere else."

- "Oh, _good_. I was worried, but now I don't have a reason to be then."

- "Excuse me?" Blair smirked at his confusion.

- "Well, I have a date tomorrow and I didn't know how you would react, but since you don't mind my "whoring" around…" Chuck narrowed his eyes.

- "Amazing, from a virgin to a slut in the span of two weeks."

- "Takes one to know one, you insolent pig! How dare y…"

Bart was about to step forward and scold his son for the insult, but stopped in his tracks when Charles all of a sudden leaned in and crashed his lips upon hers.

Bart could see that Blair was as astonished as he was when she did not move, which Chuck took advantage off and pulled her in, pressing her body against his. Her back slammed into the wall and he buried one of his hands in her dark wavy hair, while the other one went to hold her by the waist.

Chuck was practically squeezing her against the wall, and Bart had to admit that he was shocked by the passion he witnessed coming out of his lazy and pessimistic son!

Blair came to her senses and started to pull away – well tried at least. She managed to push the both of them away from the wall but this only aided Chuck to encircle her waist. She pushed and struggled, her curls bounced up and down as he stumbled backwards with her body still in his arms. Eventually he needed to come up for air and at that moment Blair made a run for it. She pushed him off while he was still lightheaded and ran away from the dark hall, back to the dining area.

Bart was left to observe his son in private.

Charles' breathing was rapid and harsh as he leaned across the wall and with closed eyes he pulled a hand through his hair and then hit the wall:

"Damn it!!!"

***

He stood on the sidewalk, staring after a recently departed limo.

"Creating another scandal." Chuck whirled around and tried to hide away his lovesick and brooding gaze.

"Father?"

"I knew it was bound to happen someday… even to you. Though I never suspected that she would be the One." Bart interrupted him.

"What ar…" Chuck's eyes narrowed.

"I approve. She was much too intelligent for Nathaniel, anyway. He would never be able to handle her." Chuck's eyes widened, but before anything else could be said, Bart turned around and disappeared inside the hotel.

*

*

TBC

**AN: Thank you ALL so much for the wonderful reviews! **I have to admit that I was not sure as to wether post this story or not, since I was afraid that everyone has moved on to Season 3 and the "new" Chuck and Blair and I was the only one who missed Season 1 and what I consider** "the real Chuck and Blair".**

The last part will be posted this weekend. Don't forget to leave a comment.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Sorry for the delay I had a major writer's block, and I am still not completely satisfied with this chapter but thought you waited long enough.**

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**PART III**

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Special moments, signs and signals might all be simply figments of our imagination. Romantic scenes and déjà vu's could be nothing more than daydreaming and fantasies created by a creative part of our brain, when we see things and details that fit into the stereotypical division of our knowledge by association.

This is why the grand staircase and the golden glittery decorations of the hotel reception area meant something entirely different to Bart Bass compared to a newly wed couple on a vacation from Boston. To them the glittery details and professionally mixed and matched flower-arrangements were things that were listed under indications of splendour and future dreams. To the owner of the Palace hotel the marble carved invention was nothing more than a set of steps leading from one floor of the building to another, and also a complete waste of time when elevators were near by.

The reason why Bart had kept so many and grand stairs upon the purchase of the late 19th century building was because he saw it as a product that was desired by the customers. They wanted to live in a _palace, _rather than be guests at a hotel that bore the same attention-seeking title but in reality was nothing more than an antique fake, and therefore that is what Bart provided them with, for purely selfish and material reasons, of course.

And yet the _Palace_ was nothing more than an illusion. There were no true castles in New York, because the united States were never a monarchy and for many years the new American settlers looked down on the nobility of the rest of the world. Why? Because they envied the privileges and yet it was easier to fight for "human rights" than to admit the humiliation and the covetousness.

The obvious contrast between the original building and the skyscraper in the background would cut the eye, but somehow the special colouring of the glass and stone material used only accented the ensemble. The hotel blends the historic landmark Villard Mansion with this modern 55-story tower while located at the centre of Manhattan. The original building was in fact just that – a _building_ or more accurately a mansion, connected with the hotel by a two-story marble lobby. It was the Art Deco styled suits on the third level of room accommodations – The Towers Rooms that occupy the top floors of the hotel, that were the main reason for Bart Bass' settling down in this particular "palace".

When he entered the lobby from the Courtyard, Bart as per usual encountered the grand staircase that would take him down to the lower level lobby and a pair of staircases on either side of the foyer would lead to the second floor where the red Verona fireplace adorned the reception area; an original feature taken from the south wing of the Villard Mansion.

Without even glancing at the grandeur surrounding him, he made his way to the elevators and pressed the button. Soon enough he would be in the solitude of his office, shutting out the rest of the world.

As soon as the lift – cabin reached floor number 40, Bart exited, passed by the receptionist and collected some of the messages received (well, those that were worth wasting his time on) and continued down the hall where his slightly smaller but more personal study lay. Its perfect location was part of its charm. While the main office was 40 floors bellow in the Villard Mansion, and the newly purchased Bass penthouse was on the top 54th floor, this quiet study was Bart Bass' sanctuary, where not even his son disturbed him.

The accidental thought of his scandalous heir triggered a sudden feeling, but Bart would not go as far as to call it a _fatherly_ one. He wondered what has happened to his son and the lady of Chuck's heart during the past ten days. Ever since the dinner last Friday at _Alfredo's _Bart has not received any reports about the younger Bass. No complaints, no police reports, in fact - nothing.

He picked up the phone and shut the door behind him, thus preventing the receptionist from overhearing the conversation.

*

* * *

*

37

pling

36

pling

35

pling

34……

The number values kept on decreasing and after another ten minutes of agonising waiting, Bart Bass for the first time in his life began to appreciate the physical exercise and movements that a good old-fashioned staircase had to offer.

Finally the doors opened and he stepped out onto the 31st floor. This was a very quiet part of the hotel and the interiors, albeit tasteful and luxurious, were humble and soothing.

When Bart found out that the reason why he hasn't seen his son anywhere near his old suite, it all became clear and yet strangely confusing.

Apparently, Charles Bass has suddenly decided to rent a newly redecorated room in the Executive Lounge after exactly four days had passed since the business dinner, and ever since all his personal affairs were handled discretely and the room-service staff was all male.

These facts required some serious re-evaluation of character, however as soon as Bart turned the corner it became clear that his contemplations would have to be put aside.

There, ten feet ahead of Bart and approximately fifteen feet away from the mahogany brown door with golden numbers 3, 2 0 and 2 inscribed on it, stood no other than Nathaniel Archibald.

"Nathaniel."

The young man with golden blonde hair turned around and his clueless ocean-blue eyes met calculating older ones with the same colouring but with a contrasting ice-cold tone: "Mr. Bass?"

"I am surprised to see you here. You know the Dayton couple?" Bart walked past the jock in the hood sweater and strategically blocked the suit door behind him.

"Dayton?"

"Room number 3202?"

"Oh, no. You see, I was looking for Chuck. I haven't seen him since school earlier today and there wasn't much time to talk so... Anyway, I tried finding him in his usual room down on the 18th floor, but he wasn't there. So I asked the receptionist, the nice sweet girl told me that there was another room booked under his name." Bart lifted an eyebrow.

"Oh, I see. But I still do not understand what this has to do with my client who is at the moment resting after a tiresome journey from Tokyo behind this very door?"

"Well, the room Chuck had booked… room number 3202. It's that room… ehm, sir."

"There must be some mistake. I have personally escorted William Dayton to this very room not two hours past. I am sure if you go down and ask again… perhaps a different receptionist…" Bart hinted with a serious tone.

"A different…?" Ocean blue eyes still innocent and utterly confused.

"Yes. Perhaps somebody more experienced with working behind the front desk, rather than someone who is pleasing to the (your) eye." Bart's facial expression suddenly reminded Nate of a smirking Chuck. His eyes widened.

"Oh! No, sir. I am actually here to talk about Blair, so I am definitely not interested in _that_."

"Hmm. Indeed." Bart cleared his throat: "However, I was under the impression that the two of you were no longer together."

"Well, I-"

"And since _thus _it is not a relationship crisis, I am sure it can wait." Bart looked behind Nathaniel and signalled one of the concierges to step forward. "This is Paul. He will escort you to the reception area of the Executive Lounge located one floor down. Ask for Carl." Bart did not wait for Nate's answer and led him back to the elevator.

"Mr. Bass, will there be a message to Carl?" The 30-something Paul asked and exchanged a look with Big Bad Bart.

"Yes, tell him that I _personally _asked to _**take care**_ of Mr. Archibald here, and that he should give _fitting _answers."

Soon enough Nate was out of the picture and Bart pressed the key-card into the clearing. The door opened and Bart was enveloped in darkness.

-

He was not sure what he expected to see but it was certainly not the image of his son embracing Blair Waldorf, and the both of them asleep in their school uniforms. Chuck's face was buried in her hair and while one of his arms was holding her shoulders the other was wrapped tightly around her slim waist.

-

There was a smile on her face…

Bart snapped out of his incredulous stare when he heard that the LCD screen TV was on.

_-_

_Clark Gable and Vivien Leigh shared one of their future promising scenes:_

_**Rhett Butler**__:_ _Now that you've got your lumber mill and Frank's money, you won't come to me as you did to the jail, so I see I shall have to marry you._

_**Scarlett**__: I've never heard of such bad taste. _

_**Rhett Butler**__: Would you be more convinced if I fell to my knees? _

_**Scarlett**__: Turn me loose, you varmint, and get out of here! _

_**Rhett Butler**__: Forgive me for startling you with the impetuosity of my sentiments, my dear Scarlett. I mean, my dear Mrs. Kennedy. But it cannot have escaped your notice that for some time past the friendship I have felt for you has ripened into a deeper feeling. A feeling more beautiful, more pure, more sacred. Dare I name it? Can it be love? _

_**Scarlett**__: Get up off your knees! I don't like your common jokes! _

_**Rhett Butler**__: This is an honorable proposal of marriage made at what I consider a most opportune moment. I can't go all my life waiting to catch you between husbands. _

_**Scarlett**__: You're coarse, and you're conceited. And I think this conversation has gone far enough._

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**AN: I was thinking of perhaps writing one more chapter. It would take place around episode 1x12. Would you guys be interested or should I just leave this as a three shot?**

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	4. Chapter 4

**PART IV**

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_**Happening around the 15**__**th**__** of December, after the school has ended and the week before Cotillion (1x10).**_

*

*

People thought it fitting that a harsh, cold-blooded man such as him was born in the middle of the cold and harsh winter. Though, Bart never really understood their logic. These people were New Yorkers and you could hardly call winter in New York harsh. In fact yesterday the small amount of ice that had time to form out on the street was melting away.

Turning 47 was not as grand as 45 and so the celebration was rather small, held in a private room reserved especially for events of smaller calibre. Of course, the Henry room at the Palace hotel still fitted up to fifty people, but compared to his 300 guests two years ago it was a noticeable change.

"Lilly." He bowed his head and they silently exchanged looks. Other than the unfortunate time when Charles had walked in on them in his office, the couple had managed to keep a low profile and after all the misunderstandings and second chances Bart finally felt comfortable in his first relationship in a long time. He never thought he would remarry, not after _her._ In a way, pretending that she was dead was easier than to think about the actual situation. And despite what most people thought of his parental skills, he would never reveal the truth to his son. Deep down he knew the reason why; Chuck was the only good part of her left, the only part of her that he could still love.

"Mr. Bass. Happy Birthday." The young version of Lilly came in the form of her blonde daughter in her revealing patterned cocktail dress. She was indeed a treat for the eyes, and yet there was something missing. Something her mother had that never passed on to the daughter. Something about Serena Van der Woodsen that could only be described with two words: _fleeting interest._ Bart could not see the same sparkle in her eyes that Lilly had. Yes, their reputation may be the same, but something about Serena just screamed: "USED!"

"Thank you."

"Yeah, and thank you for inviting us." Lilly's son smiled at him and for the first time in his life Bart met a person, who in no way bothered him. Eric neither annoyed him like Serena could, nor did he challenge Bart like his own son constantly did. Speaking of: "Chuck…"

"Eric, long time no see." Charles sneaked up behind his father and shook hands with the younger Van der Woodsen, purposely ignoring the older sibling and instead greeted the family matron. "Mrs Van der Woodsen."

"Oh, please, that makes me sound so old, Charles. Call me Lilly." She smiled warmly and Bart couldn't help but once again notice the differences between mother and daughter. Serena Van der Woodsen could never be a woman worth a Bass man's attention.

"Serena, what an interesting choice of attire." Serena frowned, as if waiting for something yet to come: "I must say that the jungle pattern is very fitting, considering that they too wear very little clothes there." Bart choked on his champagne and glared at his son, while Eric snickered behind his sister's back.

"Indeed, I agree Charles, Serena does fit into the aboriginal environment." A clueless mother commented.

"I hardly think we can judge whether or not I can fit into a folk group of people from savage countries."

"Nonsense, I can barely tell the difference." Chuck smirked and took a sip of his scotch, ignoring his father's blazing eyes.

"Speaking of blind and clueless, have you seen Nate and Blair yet?" Suddenly Bart turned towards Serena and stared at her. The tension was obviously there and yet neither Lilly nor Eric seemed to have noticed.

Chuck's focus on Serena didn't last long since in that moment the two Waldorf women walked into the dining room and one of them caught and held Charles' attention the rest of the conversation.

After dinner it was time for mingling; taking advantage of the situation and making connections, the main priority of the elite. Of course the second most important issue was all the gossip that went around, and the latest news would not have been that interesting to Bart if it wasn't for one small detail.

Apparently when the forty something banker was caught cheating on his wife with a seventeen-year old girl, a private investigator had been recommended to the said wife. Now, the fact that the girl in question went to St. Jude's sister school for girls could be a coincidence, however the fact that it was _Eleanor Waldorf's daughter_ who had recommended this one particular private detective to the scorned spouse, was anything _but_ a coincidence. Now Bart would not go as far as to assuming that Blair had her very own PI, but he did know _someone_ in her close proximity who, he had no doubt, did keep an investigator on a short leash.

Conversing with other men involved in the business of New York, Bart Bass could not help but inwardly chuckle each time the topic of the cheating investment banker came up. The rumour had it that he was _stuck_ in an awkward position with his bare bottom up in the air, and that was of course when the PI chose to storm in and photograph the whole thing. The girl was sent off to somewhere in Europe.

Bart shook his head and surveyed the room. He spotted Charles on his way to the bar lounge, naturally a certain brunette was already there with a glass of champagne in her hand.

"Waldorf." Her shoulders became rigid and she straightened up. He smirked.

"Bass." She turned around, facing him.

"I thought gin was your choice of poison."

"I'm celebrating."

"Ah, yes. Of course. How could I forget? Yet another successful takedown. Our list is growing."

"_Our_ list?" She scoffed. "Excuse me, but if I remember correctly you were the one who shoved your PI's phone number in my face and told me to stop wasting my time on some unworthy." Blair lifted an eyebrow and smirked.

"Deny it all you want, but facts speak for themselves. For example, Mike _being_ my PI is a fact. Now I don't really share, but somehow for you I seem to always make exceptions." He murmured softly gazing down at the pale beauty in front of him. Blair opened her mouth but when she looked up her voice disappeared and she held her breath as he took a step closer. "Admit it, Waldorf. We make an excellent team."

Blair kept staring at him, wondering what game he was playing. Here he was, rudely invading her personal space in front of everyone, and here she was, doing absolutely nothing to stop it.

"We do. When there's something in it for you." She narrowed her eyes but instead of moving away Blair held her ground.

"There's always something in it for me." He smirked at her confused expression. "As for my lack of interest in your ideas that night. You have only yourself to blame, yourself and that delicious little black dress you were that night."

"You and your one-track mind." She tolled her eyes, slightly flattered.

"Yes, well, lately it has become more of a one-_rack _mind." His hand somehow landed on her hip and Chuck drew her closer to him. "Like I said, there's always something in it for me… _when you're involved…_"

Blair didn't seem to realise just how close they were. Her eyes, captured by his. Her breath shallow.

"You look beautiful, Blair." He whispered while delicately fidgeting with a charm on the diamond necklace around her neck. His breath tickled her parted lips.

"Thank you." She blushed and looked down. Chuck smiled, when he saw the red colour gracing her alabaster skin. It was at times like these that he remembered how innocent she truly was. Blair would always remain pure, no matter what happened in the future. He would always be her first, and subconsciously he already knew that he would never let her go. This girl, his childhood friend, was so much alike him, and yet so very different. They grew up in the same world but their origin and upbringing was as different as day and night. Here he was, embodying everything old society patrons detested: young, powerful, his fortune and inheritance relatively new and yet the size of it immense. And here she was. The old lord Waldorf's granddaughter's, heiress to the traditional Waldorf-Astoria hotel with three hundred years of history behind her. Blair's original bloodline conservative and imposing. Not to mention that everyone in her family was protestant, to his catholic. Still, somehow, they understood one another without even trying. Always matching, never clashing.

Something blue flickered in the background and he saw Nathaniel crossing the dining room next door on his way to Serena. Lately though, in fact ever since the masked ball, Nate's focused less and less on the golden girl. Sure he still laughed and since he and Blair broke up he spent more time with her, but Chuck could no longer detect the admiration in his eyes. They were clouded with worries about his family, that was understandable, but then why is it that he went from purposely avoiding to constantly bringing up any topic concerning Blair.

All of a sudden, Chuck felt like Blair was being taken away from him, and the further she would get the more obstacles would lie in their way. His eyes focused on her big doe ones. A Bass would die before admitting it, but he has been dreaming of those eyes.

These past couple of weeks have been _unnerving. _What else do you call it when you wake up and stare straight into the objects of your subconscious obsession?

They had been caught up in each other all month, not being able to keep their hands off one another. _OK, HE was not able to keep HIS hand off of her, and SHE couldn't resist him. _

'One particular incident in the school library comes to mind.' He thought, smirking at the pink colour still gracing her cheeks.

Still, after all the times she let him claim her _over and over, _she managed to remain pure. He was the only one to have touched her, and even if (he fisted his hands and felt sick just by thinking of it) she would sleep with someone else for some yet unknown reason, he would still remain her first and she would always be pure to him. In fact seeing as she was a Waldorf, Chuck doubted she would _ever_ be technically anything but. The sad thing was, that already by then he knew that he was stuck. He has never been without Blair in his life, and that without any romantic involvement. Now, that she has gotten him into even thinking about romance, there was no way he would ever let her off the hook. Whatever this was between them had a beginning, but no end. He bent down and whispered in her ear.

"Spend the night." The smell of her coconut shampoo overpowered his senses. There, in a dark bar, with the rest of the Upper East side just outside of the doors behind him and the bartender watching a football game on a TV in the far-corner behind her, Chuck felt desire building up inside him. The previous two nights she avoided him because of the school Christmas events and her charity work required a lot of planning. Of course, with Chuck Bass around she wouldn't be able to focus on anything and so instead of trying to somehow deter him and eventually failing, Blair had successfully been avoiding him with the help of Serena, who was more than willing to help. The clueless blonde thought that Blair was actually giving up on Chuck, even more hilarious, she thought that Chuck would just let Blair go.

"No…" She felt his hands on her waist and hip and in close proximity her forehead touched his dark hair, feeling the smooth thick mane. She gazed down at his pale, but slightly darker than hers, skin, mesmerised by the stretched muscles beneath the surface. Blair took a small step backwards and his hands held onto her arms instead. He was frowning, clearly not pleased with her dismissal. She smiled shyly: "My mother is going to the airport after the party. She won't be back from Paris till Wednesday…" Blair looked up at him and blushed prettily. So far they had spent the nights (and days) at the _Palace_, never at her place, in fact, Chuck was very well aware of the fact that _no man_ has ever graced Blair's bed in _that _sense. Who knew what the previous occupants of the room 3202 did there? But her bed was untainted and it stroke his ego enormously, knowing that her _childhood bed_ would also be marked as his territory.

He remained silent, enjoying her discomfort; a mischievous smirk played on his lips. Blair rolled her eyes but her cheeks were burning up as she felt him squeezing her arms sensually.

Bart noticed that his son and Blair have been missing for far too long and apparently he was not the only one.

"So, Eleanor, where is that lovely daughter of yours? I simply must introduce her to my grandson. He is visiting from Denmark." The rumour about the Archibalds' ruin spread with the wind. Of course this sudden turn of events meant that the granddaughter of the late William Waldorf Astor, 3rd Viscount Astor and her fortune were once again_ on the market_. Bart knew of course that that was not the case. Clearly his son's childhood friend has turned into someone he would probably see a lot more of in the future. Now that he knew that they were indeed, intimate, Bart had no doubts about it. This was not some random girl, or some random mistake. Even if Chuck suddenly would have lost all his values and forgotten all about his friendship with Nathaniel Archibald, his actions for the past month speak for themselves. Bart couldn't remember the last time he has heard or seen Chuck being with another woman, in fact his son didn't even flirt around anymore, he seemed too… tired when he was without Blair, and when with her, on the rare occasion Bart actually managed to get a glimpse of the two of them together, it's like the control his son has been perfecting for the past seventeen years just went out the window. To other people he just seemed to be in a good mood and decent, for once, but Bart Bass knew better. In fact he knows Bass men in general, and that look of total admiration (and at times obsession) is a rare but fatal weakness.

"Oh, I'm sure she's here… somewhere." Eleanor frowned when she noticed that her otherwise obedient and tactful daughter was missing from her side. "I will go get her." Bart did understand Charles' current predicament, but that didn't mean that he would let this important soirée be the place for yet another scandal. This was not some Shakespearian play. It was time to pull his son's head out of the clouds. Unfortunately this time it wasn't drugs so he couldn't just let Chuck sleep it off, not without his knew _teddy bear_. Just because Chuck hasn't been around hookers for the past two months doesn't mean he went without. In fact since this whole thing started he actually had more sex than ever before.

Last weekend Bart took it upon himself to examine all the hotel security tapes from the relevant locations, but was stunned when he noticed that on the way to a certain location on a certain floor the couple would stumble into a closet or a cleaning room. Thanks to faithful employees of his hotel, he managed to get a hold of all the inappropriate tapes, and the amount of them was mind blowing. Neglecting his own peace of mind he continued to examine and erase evidence carefully the same weekend, but then he played a surveillance tape from the lift up to the Bass penthouse. It starter out calm and … dare he say it… Sweet? That is until the Waldorf girl dropped her bag and pushed Charles into the wall assaulting his lips. After trashing the elevator for a few minutes, his son full of ideas, pushed the emergency stop button and after that even Bartholomew Bass started to feel uncomfortable. The couple took _plying rough _to an entirely different level. There was actual blood on Charles' back as Blair dug her nails into his skin. That was Bart's breaking point.

This is why the situation was so out of hand. The two have been together for a month now, and were _still _breaking furniture. Two people so dependant on control forgot the meaning of it when around one another. So engrossed in gaining control over one another, to get powerful together, that they didn't even seem to notice how different they both have become.

Bart followed Eleanor and narrowed his eyes at his son's stupidity. There he was, supposedly in a secret relationship, with his hands placed intimately on Eleanor's daughter's waist in an open room in the middle of a very public event.

"So you thought I'd give you a _ride_?" Chuck smirked.

"Ugh. You are crude." This is exactly why Chuck Bass shouldn't be your first. Unless… you were Blair Waldorf and his sadistic humour turned you on. Her eyes met his, and the tension was palpable.

"I love your necklace…" He ignored her comment and suddenly had that soft, foreign expression on his face. The bartender stared at them.

"Blair?" Neither of them seemed to have noticed the horrified expression on Eleanr's face upon her discovery of them. "Blair!" The brunette whipped her head around; thankfully they were not in an all _too _compromising position.

"Mother." She took a step away from Chuck just in case.

"Blair, darling. Come along, there's somebody I want you to meet." Eleanor kept her eyes on Charles' when Bart reached the bar.

"Eleanor." He then turned to Blair who was trying to avoid his son's burning eyes. "Blair, it's nice to see you, _again._" At this Eleanor straightened up and she met Bart's gaze. The two always respected one another and had co-operated both when Harold was around and after the divorce. However, Bart knew that Eleanor never even considered the possibility of this turn of events, and her daughter was Eleanor's life's work. She would not give up the control over Blair's life easily. Eleanor took Blair's _left _hand and glared at the Bass magnate with a polite smile on her lips.

"Bart," turning around she looked at Charles in a new light. She didn't know anything, but Eleanor Waldorf was not stupid and she was very well aware of the look the Bass heir kept giving her daughter the moment she stepped into the bar lounge. She glared at him, pushing her daughter out the doors. "Blair, dear."

"Yes, mother."

When the two were long gone Chuck moved closer to the door still not looking at his father.

"I hope you realise that this is not a joke, Chuck."

"Father."

"It is one thing when you two keep this _thing_ secret, it is an entirely different matter for her family to find out about this. You have a lot of privileges and with that come responsibilities."

Chuck kept quiet, but seemed to listen to his father, for once.

"Now I never bothered to have this conversation with you, simply because I already told I had no way of knowing that she out of _all _people, the girl you grew up with, would be the one who you…" Bart stopped and Chuck looked up, wanting to be anywhere but that this bar. "My point is that Blair has been lectured and taught about propriety all her life, and the truth is that though you are younger with the freedom you have it is safe to say you are equivalent to 21-year olds. "

"If the lecture is over, I would like to get back to the party, _dad_, Happy Birthday." Chuck made his way through the crowd.

*

*

The elevator closed behind him and he made his way to the stairs. Chuck looked up and there she was. Her white night robe was slightly parted and he saw the black transparent nightgown covering her body beneath the robe. Her legs were left bare for his hungry eyes and she was barefoot. Blair stared at him, surprised to see him.

Her mother insisted on driving her home, and judging by the amount of waitresses flirting with Chuck and his stupid smirk, she expected him to be in the middle of a three-sum or hell a four-sum! Blair did not like this feeling. It was one thing to feel jealous of Nate and Serena, it made her feel bad about herself and she kept thinking she wasn't good enough, but with Chuck she didn't just feel disappointment she felt, stupid and used, but more importantly she felt _pain._ Blair would rather die than to admit to it, but she didn't even have to force the food out of her system, it came out naturally.

On the bright side now she didn't have to stick two fingers down her throat, a mere thought of him with another woman, or women or whatever, was enough.

"What are you doing here?"

"What?"

"Well as you can see, I got home without your help. If you want a drink help yourself, I know daddy had scotch in his study. In fact take the whole bottle, that way you can share it with your whores and liven up the orgy!" Blair turned her back on him and continued down the hall to her room. She wanted to creep into a hole and stay there. She was in the middle of the hallway, passing painting of her great grandfather when she felt a rough hand on one of arms, spinning her around.

"I thought you knew me better than that, Waldorf. You know full well that I wouldn't wait till the dinner was over if I was interested in those disposables."

"For all I know, you did just that in one of the bathrooms. I was just lucky not to be there at the time." She shrugged him but didn't get far as he wrapped his arms around her waist from behind and dragged her into her bedroom.

"What do you want? Since when do you have the right to demand things from me?!" He husked into her ear.

"Since I am warming your bed 24/7!"

"Don't act so innocent, YOU are the one who started all this!"

"Excuse me?! I wanted nothing to do with you. I was willing to just let you gloat as long as you left me alone. So you can set demands on me but I can't?! This is the 21st century Chuck!"

"Yeah, tell that to your stupid family!" He threw her on the bed but she sprung up and backed away into her closet doors.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Ugh! It doesn't matter. " He raked his hand through his hair. "What do you want from me?"

"Nothing! I don't want anything from you. I can't trust you!" Blair turned her head away but he caught her chin and forced her to look into his eyes.

"Since when?"

"Since always! There is a difference between schemes and a relationship!" Blair's eyes widened when she heard the last word.

Before she had time to backtrack he pounced on her and pressed her against the closet doors until they burst open and Chuck and Blair fell on the floor. Without breaking the contact of their fused lips he started to rid Blair of her nightclothes.

At first she struggled, trying to get the upper hand but there was no stopping him when he was set on taking her, she had learned this early on.

He looked up and their eyes met, her angry with traces of tears in them and his glazed over with hunger for something more than just her flushed body.

- "There has been no one else since you Blair. I swear." He stroked her face with the palm of his hand in such a tender manner that she barely recognised him.

Blair smiled and captured his lips. Gathering her in his arms bridal style Chuck carried her to the _yet_ untainted bed, forever marking it as his. His scent lingered in her sheets.

His warm hands, possessively caressed the softness of her milky thighs, wrapped around his waist, as he pushed through her tight entrance to his personal nirvana. Burying his manhood deep inside her, listening to her screams.


	5. Chapter 5

_**AN: I'm sorry, guys, but due to disappointment over the recent spin of events on the show I have lost some of my inspiration, and I want to finish this story while it's still good.**_

_**This is the **__**last**__** part of this story. I will focus on my historical fics instead and try to finish them.**_

_**I would love it if you could give me some feedback about this last chapter and also whether or not my interpretation of Bart is realistic. I tried to keep it as close to the tone of season 1 as possible.**_

_**

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**PART V**

x

"Oh, spare me!" the door to the suite number 1812 flew open and there he was.

"Blair?" she looked up and was met by inquisitive ocean blue eyes and a clueless smile.

"Nate?"

"I'm so glad you're here. Listen, about Christmas I…"

"Yeah, Chuck just told me about your trip. I'm glad you had a good time. Well, I was on my way out." Blair turned around: "Charles. So attentive to your friends' needs." A fake smile and she was off.

"Wait, I…"

"Nathaniel."

"Chuck what was that?" Chuck was already putting on his slacks.

"Actually, I was on my way out as well. If you don't mind…"

As the two of them stepped outside and Chuck locked the door, Nate addressed his mate hoping to engage in some friendly conversation, but by the time he pulled his wits together, Chuck was already half way down the hall.

* * *

"Here's to yet another successful year." His colleagues complimented him.

Bart had not given it much thought, focusing on his relationship problems with Lilly, but ever since December there was a radical change in his son. And if he were to take a guess, it had something to do with the events before Christmas. Apparently the entire cotillion evening crashed and burned in the middle of one of the waltzes, when somehow the dance turned into a fist throwing fight over Blair Waldorf.

Bart didn't fail to notice the look on Eleanor's face, when a week later upon her return from France, she was filled in on the events of the ball night during Catherine Carlyle's annual Christmas dinner. Instead of apologising, she merely looked surprised and flattered. In the course of one night her daughter managed to turn down a prince, infatuate Carter Baizen, draw the otherwise calm presentable Nathaniel Archibald to the brink of physical violence, and unbeknownst to anyone, Blair awoke the green monster inside Chuck Bass without even trying.

Bart finished his lunch meeting, and headed up towards the exit to get some paperwork done at Bass Incorporated. A set of lift cabins just headed up to the top floors and the CEO of the multi-billion company was left in solitude, waiting for the arrival of the next available elevator.

"_Let go of me!"_

"_How dare you!"_

Her hissed words came from the stairs and sure enough, as he turned around Bart Bass saw a rather flustered Blair Waldorf running down the stairs with Chuck Bass right behind her.

"And to think that I came up there to apologise to you, feeling guilty." Losing her balance, Blair was about to fall down the stairs as her heels caught in the soft carpet on the steps, but a rough hand gripped her upper arm and pulled her up. Chuck stepped in front of her and blocked her way down.

"That's right, you should. I'm glad there is some dignity left in you." His hazel eyes were black, but the passion in them reflected something other than desire and Blair had to look away, frightened of what she might find there – a beast. A beast that _she_ awoke.

"Why should I? You ruined the one evening I have been anticipating for seventeen years just to save your pride!"

"And you let yourself be FUCKED by my best friend to save yours!" Blair flinched away and when she looked up for the first time in her life she saw repulsion written all over Chuck's face when he looked at her. She could see the hurt, but took it as nothing more than a sign of his wounded pride. Still, it was the disgust that broke her. Blair's eyes watered yet she refused to back down or _break_ down in front of him.

Chuck wanted her to deny everything. He wanted her to say that after he turned away and ran heartbroken to his suite to pack, she didn't go through with it. That she left Nathaniel alone and came looking for him but was too late. But he knew she didn't. Still, her words cut through his walls like a knife through butter, heading straight towards his still bleeding lonely heart.

"No, I finally shared the most intimate act of love with the _right_ person…"

He knew that those words were meant to be the final blow; he could read her like a book in any circumstances. But that one sentence had quite the opposite effect. Nathaniel aside, Chuck once again remembered that this was _Blair_ in front of him. Sure, she might have remained guarded around him during their heated affair, but what he failed to remember until now was that despite her demons so alike his own Blair had also dreams. Dreams that went beyond buying an antique bottle of most expensive scotch at an auction and then enjoy the liquor while letting the slutty Christie's speaker give him a blowjob as he signed a few papers. Chuck wished more than anything that his notion of "dreams" remained as it was. However, they now consisted of him coming _home_ to bouncing mahogany curls and soft arms and lips and thighs wrapped around him.

She may have invaded his every thought, but Chuck was fairly certain that the romantic in her painted a picture of the to of them a long time ago. Probably some 50s Old Hollywood movie was playing in her head the entire December. And how could he object to the role as a misunderstood gangster.

"The most intimate act of love?" She swallowed and closed her eyes as he stepped closer. "Is that what _we_ were sharing? Do you remember, Blair? That rainy afternoon. Your delectable green dress pushed down over your bare breasts- me devouring them, with that flowing skirt pulled up to your waist. Your bare back and ass pressed against the stained glass window, with me thrusting my … " He placed his hand on her waist pressing her against him. He whispered in her ear: "… into your wet, tight heated … your nails cutting through layers of my skin, blood drops forming on my back urging me to pound harder and faster, pulling at my hair until you screamed!"

Blair felt his tongue lick her ear, realizing that her la Pearla underwear was ruined and in between her thighs were wet, while her mouth was dry like the dessert. Gathering all her strength she pushed him away, her legs shaky and her inner walls trembling after the impromptu orgasm the devil in front of her caused.

"Enough!"

He smirked: "Now that's unfair. Don't I deserve a parting favour as well? I'm thinking you, on your knees, with that sweet soft mouth around my co-" The loud slap came out of nowhere. For a second he simply stood there stunned, but then he pulled himself together and instead of running after her stood put, calling after her.

"If you think your little arranged marriage with Nate is still on, then you must be more delusional than I thought." That comment stopped her and she halted in mid-step.

"What?" He smirked, smug, and calmly descended to her level.

"Well, you see, unlike you I like to keep the food I eat in my stomach." She gasped. "But watching you pathetically run after Archibald like a bitch in the heat simply makes me sick. I can't stand that level of … what's the word I'm looking for?" He looked behind Blair and saw Nate exiting the hotel. "… desperation. And seeing as Nathaniel is my best friend, I see no way to avoid that sight. So either you stay away from him, or I will reveal the truth and he won't want to be anywhere near you anyhow."

"And how do you think Nate will react when he finds out that his supposed best friend took the virginity of his girlfriend of ten years?"

"Oh, I think he will see it as I do: my duty to warn him, testing the territory myself first."

Blair sighed, shaking her head. She did not recognise this Chuck. He was known to be a heartless bastard, but he never acted like this with her. "I though you were my friend?" She looked up with her big doe eyes.

His smirk fell and his face turned into a cold façade with blazing eyes. "Face it Blair. We were never _just_ friends."

She turned around and this time he didn't stop her. Instead he simply watched as she walked out of his hotel with his heart still clenched in her claws. "We _will_ never be _just friends_…"

The sound of an arriving elevator brought Bart into reality. He saw that his son was now on his way up to his suite, alone, with a bottle of scotch from the bar in his hand. Stepping inside the cabin Bart pressed the button and soon the doors closed.

While standing there alone in the lift, he realized that his son was one of the few who had stumbled upon a rare type of love and commitment. The type that has a beginning but no end.

no matter how many chances he might screw up in the process…

x

x

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**_Thank you all for the support. _**

**_This story was simply a pleasure to write._**

**_I miss Bart._**


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